


Fantastic Voyage

by azureheavens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Battle of the Bands, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humor, Inspired by Music, Lorenz: No Raphael Mayonaise Is Not an Instrument, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: Song of The Eagle and Lion: the legendary music competition. The Golden Deer have been working hard to win it, but when Claude suddenly unveils a ridiculous new scheme, it's up to Lorenz Hellman Gloucester to keep the band from falling apart.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Fantastic Voyage

**Author's Note:**

> My friend was talking on twitter about what kind of band the Lions and the Eagles would be in, and I made a joke about the Deer that I kinda sorta fell in love with. So now we have this hot nonsense!
> 
> I love music AUs!!!!!! I love my Deers!!!!!! I still haven’t gotten to the other routes because I can’t let go but I will someday!!!

What of all the harebrained, outlandish, vainglorious schemes was Claude trying to pull this time?

Lorenz settled the shoulder strap of his instrument on his shoulder, looking on at the studio they practiced in. Scheduling the building became a struggle as the music contest, Song of the Eagle and Lion, drew ever closer. Lysithea was always on top of the practice schedule, a service that gave Lorenz confidence in their band’s ability to put on a good show.

However, despite his complaints and mutterings, _Claude_ was considered the ringleader of The Golden Deer.

Lorenz printed out the sheet music as he asked, but he didn’t like what he saw. And with Claude dodging all his messages, he had no choice but to confront him today. If things continued like this, Claude would need to step down or else The Golden Deer would have to disband for good.

Lorenz greeted the red-haired ponytailed attendant, who welcomed him in with a nod. “Two of your friends are already here,” she said, “so please, go right on in!”

Only two? Practice was set to begin in ten minutes! Must he be the only one with a decent sense of urgency? Lorenz would have bet his life Claude would be the last one to arrive, with Hilda and some excuse in tow.

When he entered, however, he was surprised to hear scales played out on an electric guitar. There was laughter, then a brief drum fill. Leonie was seated behind her drum set while taking a long drink of water. Music streamed out of Claude’s guitar. His head was bent low while his fingers rolled over the frets in quick succession. If he had not been inordinately skilled, Lorenz would have moved to have him replaced long ago.

“A-_hem!_” Lorenz coughed dramatically into his fist.

Claude looked up, never once losing track of his fingering. “Oh, hey! Good to see you, Lorenz.”

“Hey there,” Leonie chirped, tipping her water bottle to him.

“Ah yes, good afternoon, Leonie.” Lorenz gave her a nod and propped his bass against the wall, setting his bag on his usual chair. He wasn’t trying to ignore her, but his concerns lay elsewhere. “Claude, you have some explaining to do.”

“Do I? Usually when you say that, I go and find a way to absolutely not do that.” To continue to prey on Lorenz’s nerves, Claude switched from scales to an embellished rendition of _Take Me Out to The Ballgame_. Leonie, used to his whims, joined in on her drums with a heavy emphasis on the hi-hat.

“Is this really a- Would you _please_ stop that!” They didn’t, though Leonie did reduce her noise level. Lorenz impatiently dug into his bag and whipped out a folder into the air. “_What_ is this sheet music, and _why_ did you insist I print them out for you?”

At last Claude muted the strings with his palm, smiling widely as he returned his guitar to its case. “Oh, you did bring them! Excellent. Hilda’s printer was out of ink, and I wasn’t about to buy a new cartridge for her with my ramen noodle money.”

Lorenz raised a brow. “If this music so important, you wouldn’t have let something as simple as printer ink stand in your way.”

Claude bobbed his head in agreement. “Well, at least one of us is responsible. Good thing it’s you, right?”

_I doubt he’s serious_, Lorenz thought with a sigh.

Behind them, the door to the studio opened. “We’re here!” Hilda, their singer, waltzed in with a thoughtless flip of her hair, followed by the downcast Marianne and stern-faced Lysithea.

“Long time no see, roomie!” Claude crossed the room to give Hilda a double high five as he passed. He offered another to Lysithea by holding his hand high up in the air. She responded with a scowl that would set him on fire. Marianne managed to dodge the whole commotion by ducking her head and moving directly to her keyboard, which was already set up for her.

“Awesome, we’re all here now.” Leonie stood with a smile. “Let’s hurry and get to practicing.”

Claude and Lorenz spoke at the same time. “Hold on!” Then they stared at each other, with Claude more pleasantly surprised than Lorenz.

Lorenz recovered quicker. “We can’t proceed with practice until Claude answers my questions.” He held up the folder again for all to see. “Well? Obviously with a random request like this, he’s up to something.”

Lysithea scrunched up her nose. “Wait a minute, what are you talking about?”

“Ooooh, is that what you wanted to print, Claude?” Hilda made an apologetic face, but otherwise showed no sign of sincerity. “My bad. Good thing I suggested you ask Lorenz to take care of it instead.”

“That’s alright,” Claude said with resignation. “It was for the best since you didn’t have a scrap of paper to begin with.” He snatched the folder from Lorenz’s hand. Before Lorenz could squawk his indignation, the papers were already being distributed amongst the band. “I’m glad almost all of us made it here on time, ‘cause we have a lot to cover this practice: Starting with our brand-new song for the battle of the bands next week!”

Aghast, Lysithea glared hard enough to bore a hole through Claude’s skull. “A new song?! You didn’t clear this with me at all! If I’m to manage this band, you have to let me have a say on all the decisions.”

“Yeah, not just her,” pouted Hilda. “What’s wrong with the songs we already know? Figuring out something new would just be a waste of effort now.”

Leonie puffed her cheeks and blew out a long breath. “Sorry, Claude, I don’t know if I’ll have time to get this down. I have night shift for the rest of the week, not to mention my other job…”

Marianne was the last to receive her sheet music. She held her pages in slightly shaking hands. “I-I don’t know if I can do this…”

Lorenz pinched the bridge of his delicate nose. “See what you’ve done? I can’t_ begin_ to fathom what you have planned with this, but even you can tell this was a bad idea.”

Unperturbed, Claude continued with his Cheshire smile. “Bad idea? It’s been a long time since I had one of those.”

“But _why_ are we changing the song so close to our performance?” Hilda asked.

“We’re not changing the song, per se. Just improving on it.”

Before Lorenz could force an explanation from him, the studio door burst open again. “Hey, Claude!” Raphael called out as if shouting across a football field. “I brought Ignatz, just like you asked!”

Everyone turned in surprise. Claude’s grin only broadened. Raphael, who helped with setting up their shows, had his arm around the tinier Ignatz, who was dwarfed not only by Raphael’s height but the large tuba case in his arms. He looked winded but apologetic, his glasses threatening to fall off his nose.

Lorenz could only stare. Ignatz was in their class, but he had denied any invitation to join their band before. His parents didn’t want him distracted from his studies, as he relied on scholarships. He was kind enough to design their band logo, but also kind enough to make logos for the _other_ bands as well.

Hilda, blinking, was the first to speak. “Oh, hello Ignatz! What brings you here today?” she asked, turning ever so slowly to Claude. “I didn’t know you played the _tuba_.”

“Hello, Hilda. Claude, Lorenz, everyone…” Ignatz gave a tired smile and gently set his instrument down. “I used to play in high school, but honestly it’s been a while. I only brought it here because I heard Claude needed one?”

“He was pretty good back in the day!” Raphael smacked a friendly hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I would cheer on for him during halftime just as much as the rest of the crowd cheered for our team!”

“Um… Claude?” Marianne’s voice barely carried over to him over Raphael’s bluster. “Why do we need a tuba for this new song?”

“It’s not just that we needed a tuba,” Claude said plainly. “We also need Ignatz.”

Ignatz blinked. “M-me?”

“Of course. With him, our band is complete! Look, the poor man was forced to learn the tuba! It’s only right we vindicate this tragedy by adding him to our numbers. Besides, unless anyone also an accordionist, we now have the last piece of the puzzle to secure our victory.”

“The only _puzzle_, Claude,” Lorenz hissed, “is the puzzle of why we still let ourselves listen to anything you say! Hurry and explain yourself, or else we have to physically remove you from this studio so we may finally practice.”

…Perhaps this time his words were a bit too harsh. Lorenz saw Claude wilt for the slightest moment before reconstructing his good mood. “Okay, okay, fine.” He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll stop beating around the bush.”

The others gathered closer, ready to end the nonsense once and for all.

“Here’s what happened the other day: I heard that The Black Eagles were set to have a show the other night. I thought it was strange to hold something so close to the Eagle and Lion, but it would be the best opportunity to see how they play. Sylvain even asked if I wanted to come and check out the competition. Though for him, ‘checking out’ might have meant a peek up Dorothea’s skirt, but I was more interested in the music.

“Turns out the Eagles have a new guitarist. She’s good. _Too_ good. Not the slightest hint of emotion on her face, but her solo nearly melted my brains out my nose. As much as I hate to admit it, I could tell having her around made the others step up their game.

“And in exchange for some information on _us_, Sylvain let slip some secrets on The Blue Lions. And, wow.” Claude let go of a long breath, shaking his head. “It’s some stiff competition. I mean, did anyone here expect Dimitri of all people to do _screamo_? Because I sure didn’t!”

“So,” Lysithea said, worried, “you actually _told him_ about our plans?”

“Only as much as he would have told me,” Claude admitted, “which may not be much. Regardless, that makes another reason why we need to switch things up: to keep the others from getting the best of us.

“So! In order to stand out from that, we need something to help us stand way, way out. Something so unexpected people will have no choice but to be impressed! This means we have to bend genres better than Petra playing limbo.”

Bizarre imagery aside, Lorenz was beginning to understand Claude’s worries. But that didn’t assuage his own. “Then… what on earth sort of genre would that be?”

Claude set his hands on his hips, smiling with the confidence that only one ready to blaspheme before God would possess. “Polka. Funk.”

Heavy silence after a bold declaration. Not a single breath was taken amongst the eight of them. Then, the flood gates burst open.

“Polka _what!?_”

“Wait, together?!”

“You can’t be serious…”

“I’ve never even heard of that before!”

Claude let out a laugh, chest puffed out. “See? No one would see it coming!”

“No one would _want_ to see it!” shouted Lysithea. “That’s why polka funk doesn’t exist!”

“Yet,” Claude said with a wink. “We haven’t even started practice.”

Through all of this, Ignatz never stopped shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but as I said, I haven’t played in so long. I wouldn’t be any use to your… experiment, for lack of a better word.”

“And besides…” Raphael said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you guys are doing polka, does that mean we all gotta dress up? In lederhosen, or whatever?”

“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” chided Lorenz. “Lederhosen is German, not Polish, and we will _not_ be wearing costumes of any sort.”

“Lorenz is half correct,” Claude added. “This song is actually pirate-themed, so I was thinking-”

Discordant groans drowned out the rest of his sentence. Lorenz couldn’t stand it any longer. “All in favor!” he cried out, commanding their attention, “Of dropping this entire farce and starting our usual practice, raise your hand!”

Lorenz, Lysithea, and Hilda’s hands shot up immediately. Marianne’s and Leonie’s rose up half-heartedly. Ignatz shrunk and Raphael only frowned.

Claude counted the hands, frowning as he looked around the room. Finally, he sighed. “I see my proposition isn’t wholly welcome.”

After a quieter moment, Lysithea offered back the sheet music, her expression soft. “Claude, we understand you’re worried about the Song of Eagle and Lion. _All_ of us are working for this win. However, you need to at least talk to us before deciding for the whole band.”

“And I’m pretty sure she means ‘not a week before our actual show,’” Leonie offered with a forgiving smile.

Hilda bounced to Claude’s side, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. “My dear, sweet roommate, how you love to overthink! We’ve never had that much trouble before, so why get all hung up about it now? We just need to go out and have fun! That alone makes us stand out from the other bands.”

Sensing a positive shift in mood, Lorenz nodded along. “You see, Claude? Nothing needs to be changed. Have more faith in our group, and don’t rely on nonsensical ploys just because you doubt our talents.”

First, Claude kept his eyes low, contemplating everyone’s words. Then his gaze shot up as realization dawned on his face. He smiled. “Say, Hilda…” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder as well. “Have I _ever_ doubted your talents?”

_Good lord, _thought Lorenz, panicked._ Have I accidentally given him an idea?_

After a moment, Hilda shrugged. “Well, no, but you always overestimate me. I like to sing, but I’m not that _good_ at it.”

Claude gave her a doubting look, then turned to Lysithea. “And all my teasing aside, I can’t think of anyone else better for the management job than you. Your eye for the smaller details is just what our group needs.” Lysithea blinked dumbstruck before her eyes embarrassedly found the floor.

Then Claude set his sights on Lorenz, who flinched. “And don’t forget the bass line I found for us. Lorenz, come on, have you even looked at it yet?”

“Well, of course I’ve looked at it!” Lorenz assured, indignant. “It is certainly more complex than what I’m usually given-”

Claude shrugged. “So you’re not skilled enough to play it?”

“I-It’s not as if I couldn’t-“

“Then you _can_ do it?”

Lorenz pursed his lips, struggling to think of some rebuttal. Nothing came.

Claude removed himself from Hilda’s grasp and walked to the center of the circle. “Now, I’ve fielded plenty of questions from all of you, but now it’s my turn: Do you all you think I’m changing the song on you guys because I think we weren’t good enough already? Would I throw something so ridiculous at your feet if I had doubts?

No one made a sound, unable to disagree.

“All of you are amazing musicians. And even if you don’t play an instrument, we wouldn’t be The Golden Deer without you. You’ve asked me to start running these schemes by you, so I’m doing it now. If you all still think my scheme will fail, I’ll back off. We will neither funk nor polka unless you all agree on this.”

“So?” Claude’s eyes found Lorenz first. “What do you say?”

Lorenz held his gaze, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t stand silent, not when the others surely looked to him for guidance. “If we agree,” he began carefully, “to practice this new song, will we have the chance afterward to say no?”

“Of course,” Claude said as if the answer was obvious. “I wouldn’t want us giving any less than our best after all. And with this particular scheme, you can see why we’d need Ignatz. We won’t lean too heavy on the polka element, but even after next week I’m sure we’ll find a place for him.”

Ignatz frowned in concern. “Are you sure you want me in this?”

This time, it was Lorenz’s turn to smile. “I believe we’ve wanted you in the group since the beginning, Ignatz. Even if it took Claude’s meddling to bring you in, we’re glad to have you with us.”

Claude shrugged agreeably. “Exactly. Half the trick is knowing how ridiculous it all is and owning it anyway.”

Hilda pursed her lip, slowly shaking her head. “Oh, Claude… You’re lucky you’re cute. Alright, fine! I’m in.”

“Me too!” Raphael grinned. “I don’t know what polka funk would sound like, but I bet it’ll sound amazing.”

Leonie walked over to Marianne, who had spent the conversation fiddling with her keyboard. “It will definitely be… different. But if we work our butts off we can make it work! Right, Marianne?”

Marianne looked up, startled. Eventually, she nodded. “As long as we… all try it together.”

“Then you’re all with me?”

Lorenz shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Did you not hear all of us? Of course, we are with you.”

“All I could ask for.” Claude smiled. “But I did want to make sure.”

“Well, everyone! We don’t have time to stand around!” Lysithea started down the row, reading from a list she must have scribbled out while everyone else talked. “Hilda, take a look at your lyrics. Lorenz and Leonie, start figuring out the rhythm. Ignatz, let see how much you _do_ remember. Marianne-” She looked at the list again and sighed, beleaguered. “See if your keyboard has an accordion setting…”

Set with their new positions and jobs, they all got to work pouring over the new sheet music. Leonie worked with Lorenz over the beat, hashing out ways to keep each other on track. Marianne shared her earphones with Hilda as she played out the melody. Hilda sang and serenaded to Marianne, dancing in her seat to coax a smile from her friend. Ignatz seated himself underneath that huge brass instrument, testing out each note in tentative bursts. Raphael helped him set up, all while humming along with Hilda’s singing. Lysithea had her hands full arguing with Claude about the particulars of costuming or the lack thereof.

At long last, they had reached a synergy. Once Claude played out the song they were going to cover could everyone think maybe, just maybe, this would work.

Lorenz frowned in concentration over his bass. The fingering style required for a song like this was… unique. Had he approached the sheet music alone, it would have played like some offbeat staccato baroque. He had to stop thinking technically. Hitting the string with his thumb instead of plucking it produced a twang. Unlearning his usual technique would be difficult, but nothing he shouldn’t be able to handle

“No need to look sour.” Claude’s voice came from behind. He clapped a hand on Lorenz’s back. “Think of it this way! The bass is the show this time. I’m basically only here as window dressing.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve had quite enough of your rousing speeches for one day.” Lorenz sighed, shaking his head. But admittedly, there was an undercurrent of excitement flowing through the room. Certainly, there wouldn’t be this level of excitement in the band if Claude were any less… himself.

“Alright, everyone,” Leonie called out, comfortable behind her drum set. “Let’s do a run-through of what we have so far.” As everyone shuffled into formation, Leonie raised her drumsticks over her head. She cracked them together to set the beat. “One, two, one, two, three, four!”

* * *

Thankfully, they had talked Claude out of the pirate costumes.

All sound was drowned out except the pounding in their ears and thunderous applause. They all rushed off stage, ushered away by the next group.

“Ha! Now that’s The Golden Deer for you!” Claude threw an arm around Lorenz, shaking him. Exhaustion and exhilaration kept Lorenz from pulling away. Their other bandmates celebrated as well, with Hilda embracing Marianne and Leonie while Raphael carried both Lysithea and Ignatz on his shoulders.

What a set! Somehow, they managed to do it! The bass still rumbled in Lorenz’s rib cage, Leonie’s drums pounding away with his heart. Ignatz’s tuba and Marianne’s keyboard mixed masterfully with the rhythm, becoming the true key to their outlandish victory. Hilda glimmered (never sweated) under the lights, dancing more with the audience than just on her own. Raphael surprised them all with a raspy, soulful duet, unable to be contained off stage. And of course Claude had to seal the performance with an unplanned solo, dancing to each member on stage, his confident grin infecting everyone else.

What a set! A week’s worth of sweat, mixed with arguments, now paid off with the simple thrill of their music.

“So… Now that I’ve convinced you to try something like this,” Claude whispered, dangerously close to Lorenz’s ear. “Have you ever heard of this one band called Kiss?”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is named after the 80's Funk hit Fantastic Voyage by Lakeside! Please listen to it. It makes me happy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1YjmXSyHa8
> 
> Also shout out to these YouTube musicians, they really helped inspire me while writing this:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZP-3adF1rmA  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnqCCjq5HqM  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_TgjVhCYH0


End file.
